


Honey, I Summoned An Incubus

by GsSecretPornStash



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: BDSM, Banter, Bondage, D/s, Demon Sex, Demon Summoning, Demons, Dubious Consent, F/M, Occult, Smut, crazy orgasms!, incubus, only at first tho, reader smut, weird supernatural shit thats crazy hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 00:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7292251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GsSecretPornStash/pseuds/GsSecretPornStash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What are you?” you finally managed to stutter out.</p>
<p>“Who are you, baby, that’s rude,” he chastised.</p>
<p>“But, if you must know,” he continued, sounding so very encumbered, “I’m an incubus.”</p>
<p>“A what?” You gaped, your mind reeling. Oh, shit. Oh, shit, an incubus.</p>
<p>Where Gerard is an incubus, and he fucks the life out of you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey, I Summoned An Incubus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThePossessedRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePossessedRaven/gifts).



> I had a LOT of fun writing this.
> 
> I had to do research on incubi ! the ritual is based on one i found online, but that one was actually too boring so I added the stuff about crystals and powder from my own knowledge and research. but yeah i tried to include "realistic" details from the info i found online.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it @ ThePossessedRaven !

Rhodiola Roseroot Powder.  _ Check _ .

White chalk.  _ Check _ .

String.  _ Check _ .

Vera Cruz Amethyst.  _ Check _ .

Black candles.  _ Check _ .

Aqua Aura Quartz.  _ Check _ .

Salt.  _ Check _ .

 

That was it. That was everything you needed to begin your first attempt of something you had yearned to do for years--summon a demon. 

You know it’s dark, and dangerous, and very messed up according to some people, but ever since you were young you’d always had this fascination with the occult, a sort of morbid interest that you could never move on from. It had consumed your mind for too long, and now you were finally prepared to make your first try.

You cleared your schedule for an entire weekend, and made your excuses so that none of your friends or family would unexpectedly stop by.

Saturday, the day of the summoning, you spent a very long time waiting for the sun to set. You were apprehensive, yes, but very eager to begin and the hours seemed to drag on because of it. To pass the time you pushed your furniture and carpet to the walls in your bedroom, leaving a large enough patch of bare wooden floors.You flicked your curtains shut one by one against the smoky sky as dusk fell at last.

You took several deep breaths in and out through your nose. You were prepared for this. You were ready.

You began by sitting cross legged in the center of the room, with the Amethyst (for meditation, spiritual realms, and protection) in your left hand and the Quartz (for communication, channeling, and spiritual awareness) in your right. The first step was simply to meditate, to absorb the energy from the crystals and get into the proper headspace for the rest of the ritual. You lost track of how long you had been meditating, but as soon as you were ready you somehow knew when to stop--you assumed that was a good sign.

Next, you cut a strand of string to about three feet long and tied it to a piece of white chalk. You pinned down the loose end to where you had just been sitting and used the string to draw a perfect circle in the chalk. You drew a communication rune inside the circle, and several protection runes around the circumference.

This part of the summoning was methodical, and didn’t require great mental strength, so you focused on remaining in your meditative state, ignoring the tiny voice in your head that was growing nervous.

You placed the black candles at equal intervals around the circle, using another strand of string to measure, and lit them all carefully. You drew a confining rune between each candle. Then, outside the ring of candles, you poured a line of salt surrounding the whole circle.

The following step was the only one whose purpose you weren’t quite sure of: you were to sprinkle a pinch of rhodiola roseroot powder on each of the candles, and then swallow three pinches. You had researched the properties of the powder online and you hadn’t found anything particularly enlightening, only that the root helped with colds, fertility, sexual function, and sometimes depression. But, the instructions for the summoning had been clear that the root was essential to summon the correct demon, a nonviolent one, hopefully. It was never quite clear what demon it would be exactly, but oh, well. You liked surprises.

You sat back down in the center of the circle, crystals in hand, and slipped into your meditation again. You visualized a protective bubble extending from the salt lines, shielding you from harm.

You changed positions, lying on your back. You placed the quartz on your throat, the amethyst on your forehead, and poured any extra rhodiola roseroot powder onto your lower abdomen.

You slowly built up mental strength until you could focus 100% of your brainpower into calling the demon to you. You imagined the demon entering your plane of existence and becoming increasingly physical as you removed the crystals from your body and brushed off the powder, sitting up. You blew out the candles one by one, and with every flame gone the demon became more real in your mind, until,  _ finally,  _ once the last one went out, the demon should appear fully. You took a deep breath and opened your eyes.

Nothing. The crickets outside didn’t even stop chirping.

Despite being one of the most anti-climactic, disappointing moments of your life, it still exhausted you completely. You picked yourself up dejectedly and brushed the root powder off of your shirt and shuffled out of the circle, feeling dumb. You stripped off your jeans and shoes and bra, leaving you in a t-shirt and panties, and collapsed onto your bed, above the covers. You fell asleep rather quickly, perhaps to spare yourself of overthinking your failure. You could always try again some other time.

In the fuzzy nod of sleep, you likely passed through many an indiscernible dream, but there was one that stood out in vivid technicolor.

It started out like any other sex dream: on some unknown bed, a jumble of body parts and sensations and mismatched visuals and sounds. But it grew clearer. You were with a man, and neither of you were wearing any clothes. His hands were all over you, and it felt like his mouth was many places at once, tasting you, bruising you, pleasuring you. In the dream you were moaning, loudly, and felt unable to move. The dream shifted and jumped like all dreams do, and the man was on top of you, and the feeling of his body was suddenly overwhelming, and you felt his cock against you, pushing into you, and then for the first time you could see his face, small nose and devilish grin and pointed teeth and pure black eyes and--

You gasped awake, sitting up straight in bed. You ran your hands through your hair, catching your breath, and put your head in your hands. You rubbed your eyes with your hands. You let out a sigh, and then a long groan.

“Bad dream?”

You yelped, scurrying backwards on your bed as your head whipped up and panic flooded your senses.

The man standing in the middle of the room chuckled, and you saw a flash of white teeth.

“Hi,” he said.

“Who are you?” you demanded, voice trembling, and he laughed at you again.

“Ah, I’ve had many names. How ‘bout you call me… Gerard. I like that,” the man said. He was wearing all black--slacks, boot, belt, shirt, waistcoat, everything, even his hair. It only contrasted against his pale skin, making him look like paper, like death. He adopted a new position, one ankle crossed over the other and his arms folded, as if he were leaning back against an invisible wall. It wasn’t until he flashed you a grin that you realized--this was the same man from your dream.

“You,” you whispered, and Gerard giggled. It seemed uncharacteristically high pitched and breathy, but at the same time it suited him.

“Why--” you cleared your throat, “Why are you here?”

“Well, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me, sugar? You were the one who summoned me here, after all.”

Your eyes widened and you felt your breathing stop. The demon.

Well, looks like you weren’t so much of a failure after all.

The demon hummed in question.

“What?” you asked.

“Why did you summon me?” he asked again.

You had to think about your answer. Truly, you summoned him because you were interested in dark things, curious about all you could experience, all he could teach you, but seeing him there before you now, with a dangerous glint in his black eyes, you couldn’t quite think of any questions.

“Demon--” you started.

“Gerard,” he interrupted.

“You can’t hurt me,” you finished, pointing at the circle he was trapped in.

“Oh, believe me, honey, I could do a lot better than hurt you. Unless you’re into that.”

“What?” you asked dumbly, confusion overtaking your fear for a moment.

He laughed, and you frowned. All the reverence you thought you would have for the demon once you met it was gone, replaced by fear--fear, and tinges of confusion and annoyance. It laughed at you too much, and it made you uncomfortable, like it could sense your feelings.

“Little girl, do you have any idea what you summoned?”

Your mouth fell open, but you had no words to occupy it with, because  _ no _ , you really  _ didn’t _ know what you had just called to your home. If you felt dumb before, when your ritual seemed to have failed, you sure as hell felt a whole lot worse now.

“You could’ve used some imperial topaz water for a marid, or some good ol’ white mischief for a poltergeist--although that might’ve been a bit of a nuisance to you, and your lovely home here--but,  _ no _ , you used rhodiola roseroot powder and you chose me!”

He clapped his hands together, looking giddy. Your mouth was still hanging open.

“What are you?” you finally managed to stutter out.

“ _ Who  _ are you, baby, that’s rude,” he chastised.

“But, if you  _ must  _ know,” he continued, sounding so very encumbered, “I’m an incubus.”

“A  _ what _ ?” You gaped, your mind reeling.  _ Oh, shit _ .  _ Oh,  _ shit, _ an incubus _ .

“An incubus, here to give you the best orgasms you’ve ever had and ever will, haunt your dreams forever, and impregnate you with my demon seed.” He did a cocky little bow and you felt like you were going to vomit.

“There’s been a mistake,” you said, too quickly, trying to cover for yourself.

“No, no mistake,” he grinned infuriatingly, “You summoned me, a very well-done ritual if I might say, and now I’m here.”

When you said nothing, Gerard took a step forward, away from his imaginary wall, and you scooted further away from him on your bed. You frantically reminded yourself that he was inside the circle and couldn’t touch you, but the panic receptors in your brain definitely weren’t listening.

“I can sense your fear, Y/N,” he said quietly, and you gulped, “and I know when you’re lying.”

“You’re bluffing,” you said, bluffing your ass off.

He wasn’t convinced. He threw his head back with laughter and started to pace around the inside of the circle a bit. You were slightly relieved to see that he didn’t seem able to go further, or at least hadn’t tried to yet.

“We live on different planes, Y/N. I feel things differently than you. I sense things. Surely your books would have told you that?” He nodded towards the stacks of occult literature you had read in preparation for this evening. Now that he mentioned it, you definitely remembered reading about that.

“Like I said, I’m not here to hurt you. I have my business, and I’m sure you have yours, too. Luckily for you, though, my business is to make you feel true, sinful bliss,” he said this all casually, running a hand through his dark hair. As your heart rate slowed down just slightly, you allowed yourself to notice and admit to yourself that Gerard was attractive, in a dark, odd sort of way-- _ very  _ attractive, actually. Probably came with being an incubus and all that.

“So, why don’t you let me out of this pentagram, and we can get this show on the road?” he sent you a sparkling smile.

“How do I know you won’t hurt me?” you asked tentatively.

“Scouts honor,” he said cheekily, holding up his fingers, and you glared.

“Okay, fine,” Gerard muttered, becoming a bit more serious, “I imagine just my word isn’t going to convince you, but if you let me out of this circle I can show you. I’ll treat you real nice, baby.”

“No,” you said, more confidently, and the demon’s eyes seemed to get darker, “Until you can prove it to me… somehow… that you won’t hurt me, you’re not leaving that circle.”

“Prove it to you? From in here?” Oh, you really weren’t liking the grin forming on his face.

“Sounds like a challenge,” he said, and he rolled up his sleeves.

“Wha--” you began to ask, but you were cut off by your own gasp as you felt a hand on your waist, but you looked down to find nothing. When you looked back up Gerard’s face was split with a devious grin. The invisible hand was traveling up your side, and despite the very real pressure and sensation you were feeling, when you tried to bat it away your hand swung through thin air.

“Don’t fight, Y/N,” Gerard called out to you, drawing your attention back to him, “I said I wouldn’t hurt you, and I’m proving that to you. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Another incorporeal hand began to stroke your thigh, running down to your knee and back up to your hip. You lost track of the first hand as you squirmed to try to keep this hand from trailing too close to your center, covered only by the thin material of your panties. You noticed with a pinch of dismay that the said material was quickly getting wetter.

Suddenly, the first hand pushed firmly on your chest, catching you by surprise as you landed on your back on the bed.

A third hand appeared, which you should have been expecting at this point--nowhere did it say that Gerard was limited to the number of hands on his physical body. Nowhere did it say anything about this at all, actually.

The third hand pulled one wrist above your head and then the other, pinning you down. You gasped, and felt a little bit of your resistance crumble, because as reluctant as you were to admit it, this was turning you on.

And, Gerard, of course, could sense that.

“Believe me yet, little girl?” he sang.

“N-no,” you stuttered, kicking your leg as a fourth hand landed on your other thigh. Immediately a fifth appeared, to hold your hips down.

“Let me out of the pentagram, doll. We both know you want it.”

“Make me,” you spat, and Gerard’s eyes seemed to glitter.

“As you wish.”

He cracked his knuckles and suddenly something about the hands changed. Instead of feeling like an average human touch, each touch of skin on skin was charged with something more, something that made a moan bubble up out of your throat before you could stop it. It felt new, it felt amazing, and it was all pooling below your stomach and in your panties.

Your emotional resistance was disappearing faster and faster--wasn’t this what you wanted, anyway? To have an experience with the occult? And one that felt so  _ good _ , one that didn’t feel violent or malicious to your body, well, what could be the harm in that?

But Gerard’s fucking self-satisfied grin made you want to fight back more than any remaining moral qualms, and so you twisted your body against the hands’ grip and kicked your legs as much as you could.

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that,” Gerard called teasingly, and you spat, infuriated that he was amused.

Suddenly, one of the hands lifted your shirt and pinched your nipple and you fucking melted into the bed.

“Oh,  _ fuck _ ,” you moaned. The natural sensitivity of your nipples combined with the supernatural sensation of the hands was mind-blowing.

“That’s more like it,” Gerard said.

While you were preoccupied with the hands on your breasts, all your clothes were being removed until you were lying completely naked and exposed. Your head was thrown back onto your pillow and your eyes were screwed shut with pleasure. You never dreamed you would be able to cum just from stimulation on your breasts, but you felt you were about to.

“Look at you, all laid out and desperate,” Gerard said, his voice going low and husky.

“Please, please,” you whimpered, and you fell over the brink of your orgasm, shuddering and whining in a way that made Gerard smile widely. He waited until your breathing began to steady before speaking.

“This is only a  _ fraction _ of what I can do, how I can make you feel,” he said seriously.

You looked up at him, forcing yourself to think it through one last time, but there was no choice, really. Your mind was already made up, the second he laid a hand (or a non-hand) on your tits. You were going to let him out of the circle.

“Show me,” you breathed. With a smile so bright it seemed to overpower the darkness that consumed him like a thick fog beneath his skin, Gerard flicked his wrist and the hands disappeared.

You immediately scrambled up, landing on your knees and skidding over to the edge of the salt  line, brushing it away before vigorously rubbing at the chalk line, blowing at it periodically to clear the particles, until finally it was gone. You stood up and breathed in deeply before looking up.

Gerard’s face was inches from yours.

“Thanks, sugar,” he said, and then he lunged in, pressing his lips to yours. Your knees buckled from the power of the kiss, but he caught you effortlessly and tossed you onto the bed. He crawled over you and kissed you again.

His kiss, his touch, his body hovering above yours--it was all intoxicating, and made you weak in the best possible way. His fingers danced up and down your sides, leaving trails of energy that radiated throughout your body. Despite the lightness of his physical touches, the sensations were so potent that they almost stung.

Gerard lifted off of you to remove his waistcoat and shirt. His movements were quick yet not hasty. You couldn’t help noticing the way the flexes of his arms emphasized his broad shoulders. The skin he revealed was just as pale as his face, if not paler, smooth and hairless. He raised an eyebrow smugly at you when you finally met his eyes.

“Like what you're seeing?” he asked, and instead of dignifying him with a response, you hooked an arm around his neck and pulled him back in for another kiss.

He broke away and moved to kiss and suck along your neck, and bruises blossomed immediately on your skin. Your breasts were still smarting with oversensitivity by the time Gerard made his way down to them, but when you tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him back up to your lips he growled and nipped you lightly with his sharp teeth.

You were suddenly reminded of the fact that you were lying completely naked for him when you felt his fingers brushing the inside of your thighs, and before you could even twitch in reaction, he was pushing two fingers slowly into you. You were incredibly wet, and he could feel it now, and you felt his lips twisting into a cocky smirk as he kissed down your stomach.

Your hands dug into the sheets as Gerard began to pump his fingers in and out of you. He curled them expertly and found your g-spot immediately, and you threw your head back with a throaty moan as shocks travelled through your body. He added another finger alongside the other two.

“Look at you, so fucking wet for me, so nice and tight,” Gerard murmured, “Just wait. I’ll have you screaming my fucking name.”

He lightly dragged his teeth along the inside of your thighs, and your body quivered in anticipation. His breath ghosted over your cunt until finally you felt wet pressure on your clit. You bit hard on your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning loud enough to wake the neighborhood, accidentally drawing blood. Gerard stilled, and pulled away from you.

“Don’t suppress it. Moan for me like the slut you are,” he said, and even though you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you come undone, this time when he touched his tongue to you you couldn’t stop the whimpers spilling from your lips. He ran his tongue up and down you with even strokes and paused to tease around your opening where he was still fucking you with his fingers, slow and filthy.

“Please,” you whispered. Gerard froze his motions and pulled his mouth away.

“What was that? You’re going to have to speak up.” You closed your eyes, not wanting to see his devilish grin.

“Please,” you said, cheeks burning, “fuck me harder, please, please.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said huskily, and suddenly every sensation became amplified even further as he attached his lips to your clit and buried his fingers inside of you.

You cursed and your arms scrambled for purchase as you desperately lifted your hips up to meet his tongue and fingers. He was driving you quickly towards your orgasm and you felt your legs grow weak as he fucked you rough, hitting the perfect spot every fucking time.

“Fuck,  _ fuck,  _ fuck me,” you moaned open-mouthed as Gerard finished you off with his tongue on your clit and four long fingers in your little cunt. When he came up, he was glistening with your juices from the tip of his nose to the bottom of his chin, and he licked his lips and grinned. He pushed his fingers into your mouth and you moaned at the taste of yourself.

You laid back, still recovering from your orgasm and catching your breath as Gerard got rid of his pants and underwear. You only paid attention again when he leaned over you for a dizzying kiss. You broke off to gape at him.

“You’re fucking huge,” you whispered, and you weren’t just flattering him. He was  _ big _ .

“Incubus perks,” he flashed you a smile and his black eyes twinkled.

You threw your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, desperate for more kisses, more touches,  _ something _ , when suddenly the hands returned. They pinned your arms above your head and pinned your ankles far apart on the bed so that your legs were open wide.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, and Gerard took your jaw in one of his physical hands.

“Thanks again for letting me out of that circle, sweetheart,” he spoke lowly into your ear, “I know you won’t be regretting it when you’re fucking writhing around my cock, begging me to fill you up with my cum.”

You couldn’t even respond to him with words, only moans. He chuckled, stroking the side of your face with the back of his hand.

“Fucking slut,” he whispered, and pushed his cock inside of you in one swift thrust.

A high pitched moan was torn straight out of your chest at the feeling of him entering you. The first thing you noticed was that he was as fucking big as he had looked. It was almost uncomfortable, and you knew that if you weren’t as extremely wet as you were now you wouldn’t have been able to take it. The second thing you noticed was that he was cold. And it felt fucking  _ amazing _ .

With two hands firmly grasping your hips, Gerard began to rock his hips forward, and you whimpered helplessly as your hands twitched against the invisible restraints. With every one of his movements, your brain was flooded with ecstasy and your body weakened against him. The pleasure was insane--even after the two most powerful orgasms you had ever had, your body was still aching for more, and Gerard was delivering in the best way possible.

“Harder,” you gasped, and Gerard bent down to latch his lips to the side of your neck and thrusted harder into you. The new angle was better, slicker, and your hips bucked up to meet him.

Another pair of hands appeared to squeeze and knead your tits. You threw your head back against your pillow, choking out a curse as the hands pinched your nipples and sent shockwaves throughout your whole body, only making you wetter around Gerard’s cock.

“You look so filthy laid out like this, taking my cock so good,” he spat onto your chest, and the incorporeal hands rubbed it over your breasts.

“Can’t wait to cum inside your wet little cunt. You’d like that, huh, slut?”

You groaned out a resounding “yes” in response, trying to grind your hips down to meet his thrusts, but it was made difficult by the harsh grasp of his real hands on your hips. His fingernails dug into your skin and you whimpered.

You began to lose track of the number of invisible hands on you. They pinned you down, stroked your sides, and made you moan. One hand even came up to slip two fingers into your mouth, and you sucked on them as Gerard continued to pound into you, beginning to go even faster and harder than before.

By the time a hand traveled down to rub at your clit, you were gone, body lying completely weak on the bed, moaning around the fingers loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. You were feeling new pleasures deep inside of you that you had no idea were possible.

“Say my name,” Gerard hissed, and you realized that he was breathing harshly, moaning too, his body tensed and his black eyes focused intently on you. The two fingers disappeared from your mouth.

“Gerard, Gerard,” you cried, “please.”

“Scream for me when you cum.”

And  _ fuck _ , did you scream. Your body was overtaken by bliss, otherworldly bliss that was nearly out of your range of comprehension, and the world fell into blackness for a moment as you rode out these tidal waves of pleasure.

Gerard continued to fuck you relentlessly, carelessly, wildly, until finally he came with a growled curse, still deep inside of you. If you were not so lost in your orgasm, you would have noticed that his cum was cold too.

Gerard pulled out and took a deep breath through his nose, then he smiled as pleasantly as a demon of the night could, with his small pointy teeth and jet black eyes. The hands disappeared from your body all at once, and Gerard’s clothes reappeared. He looked  _ rejuvenated _ , more energized than ever before, whereas you felt completely spent, unable to move despite the lack of hands pinning you down. He was talking, but it fell on deaf ears, as you were too exhausted to make out much of it.

He cockily brushed the dust off of his clothing and smirked at you.

“I can’t thank you enough for letting me out,” he winked, “I promise you haven’t seen the last of me, doll.”

He sauntered out the door, into the human world.

And that was the last thing you remembered before you passed out.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment what you think! Comment what you like! I love comments :)


End file.
